Checkmate
by Entrovert
Summary: This is the sequel to the Mallorean. The old Dark Prophecy has traveled forward in time to create chaos and looks for a new division (i know it's not possible). It also explains Torak's madness and some other stuff. Chapter 6 is up! plz r/r!
1. Default Chapter

Checkmate

A sequel to the Mallorean

Disclaimer: They're not mine.  Duh. All suggestions, comments, compliments, and ideas are appreciated and ensure the promptness of the next chapter *hint hint* 

Chapter 1

Garion pushed back a strand of hair in his eyes as he admired his new daughter.  The royal nursery now had three occupants; Geran, Beldaran, and Ce'Vesta.  He hadn't been too pleased with a Dryad name, but Ce'Nedra has insisted, saying that their first two children had inherited names from family members on _his_ side of the family.  There really wasn't anything he could say after that.  Ce'Vesta was born a year after Beldaran, but the two were identical, both possessing their mother's wavy red hair and piercing green eyes.

Most of Aloria had held their breaths when Ce'Nedra's pregnancy was announced.  Nobody dared to raise voice against the long-awaited Rivan King, but after the centuries of a Kingless country and the latest adventure with the abduction of Prince Geran, most Alorns all preferred another heir to the throne, just in case.  Despite his undeniable sorcery powers and the accuracy of the Mrin Codex and the Darine over the eons, Garion simply could not persuade his people that there wouldn't _be_ another son.  The passage was quite clear; "Guard well the seed of the Keeper" him being the keeper, and Geran being his seed, "for there shall be no other."  Nevertheless, he himself could not help but wish for another son, for the mystery of females was undecipherable, and the though of him and Geran in a crowd of red-haired girls often made him wince.

                "Congratulations, Garion," a voice behind him called.  It was the tawny-haired Poledra, her arm around her daughter Polgara.  Both of them had helped deliver the baby.  He smiled, and all that needed to be said was said.

                Belgarath and Durnik came in then, both stumbling under the weight of the water buckets they were ordered to carry.

                "Five pails of water," Belgarath grumbled, "Is that enough for you, Poledra?"

                She and Polgara smiled at each other, while the men shared a look.

                "Alright," Garion said finally, unable to bear the silence any longer. "I'm the youngest, so I'm just going to say this and you ladies can all laugh at me.  What's with the boiled water required during every pregnancy and must be done by us and not a servant?"

                Ce'Nedra, resting contently at the bed next to Garion, suddenly burst out laughing.  He turned to Belgarath and Durnik with a hurt look in his eyes.

                "My own wife, the first to laugh," he said in a feigned sadness.  The three of them chuckled merrily.  The mysterious water boiling and the secretive looks were all a traditional part of the deliverance of a baby, started by women, no doubt.

Polgara's eyes suddenly went distant, as always when searching a place with her mind.

"Oh, dear." She murmured distractedly, then rushed out of the room without an explanation.

Garion looked around, suddenly alert physically as well as mentally.  A look with the others confirmed his fear; somebody had tampered with Polgara's mind.  Garion felt his grandfather send out a probing thought.  A wave of furious heat matched the angry look on Belgarath's face.

"Zedar," he growled, and Durnik jerked towards him, a curious look on his face.

"Are you sure?  I mean, did he find his way out?" Garion asked in astonishment.

"Yes." Belgarath's reply was short, "I don't know how, but he did."  He scratched his beard, "The only way out would have been nearly impossible, but there was no way he could have known about it.  Even if he did, I don't know how he did it."  Seeing the questioning look on everyone's face, he added, "He could have become an Ulgo zealot, and walked through it.  Either that, or one could have rescued him.  Both would have required UL's agreement, and I can't for the life of me know why UL would do that."

"Garion," the dry voice in his mind that he hadn't heard for years suddenly rang in his mind, "Tell your Grandfather that everything is going wrong!"

"Grandfather!" Garion said in urgency as well as surprise, "He's back!" he tapped his head, and his Grandfather's expression of fury increased.

"What?  Goodness, Garion, do you have any idea what you're saying?"  The voice took over.

"Relax, Belgarath.  We're not divided again.  Although, if my opposite gets his way, we're going to be."

"Why would he – it – want division?"

"There was a time before Torak became the Child of Dark when my opposite went into some uncharacteristic rage and insanity.  Our problem could not be solved while he was like that, so we had to transfer his insanity into Torak, with the consent of UL, of course.  To do that, we had to drive this spirit into an enclosed box and wait until it was weak enough to be fed to Torak.  Somehow, that spirit managed to find how to travel forward in time – to cause some chaos, no doubt."

"Wait, let me see if I'm getting this right.  Torak never really went mad, you fed madness to him so that he could be eligible for the role of the Child of Dark, am I right?  Now, somehow, that spirit has found a way to travel forward in time, to no doubt possess some other soul.  In this case, I'm guessing, Zedar.  So, just as the possibility of you winning before the Choice visited us, now the spirit of the past is visiting us?  Then, technically, you _are_ divided again, aren't you?"

"No, Belgarath.  My opposite is trying to do that.  So right now there are three awarenesses abroad; me, my opposite, and us joined.  Time travel has before been only allowed backwards; and then only for utmost urgency.  Somehow, since my opposite has found a way to travel forward without destroying himself, I, too have been allowed the possibility.  So although we _are_ divided, our division has not yet affected the people."

"So to get this spirit back where it should be, we have to catch it.  And right now, it is possessing Zedar, am I right?  But why," Belgarath mused, "Why would it want Polgara?"  He looked at Garion, who shrugged helplessly.

"He's gone."

"Why does he always have that most infuriating habit of disappearing whenever I'm on to something?!" Belgarath raged.

Durnik spoke up, "Belgarath, if you don't mind, I don't really see a reason in fuming over what already happened.  The best thing we can do now is look for my wife."

Belgarath's face softened, seeing the love and concern on the smith's face.  He beckoned to both Garion and Durnik, his hands outstretched.

The powerful force of the combined wills of the three swept through the palace, searching for the lost sorceress.

A/n:  The next chapter will be up tomorrow, since I'm already done with it, unless for some terrible reason I am unable to go online tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer:  They're not mine.  Happy?

                Ce'Nedra and Poledra, who had both been listening until the voice left, came up with their own idea for finding the sorceress.  They did not bother the men with their idea, for they would surely object, as it had never been done before.  Poledra was to put herself into Ce'Nedra's amulet, then, as she browsed the castle with her ears, Poledra would be able to search the place with her mind as eyes as well.

                Ce'Nedra held up her amulet, unsure of the idea.

                "Are you sure it will work, Lady Poledra?" she asked uncertainly, not wanting to bring about any harm.

                "No.  But how can we know for sure until we try?" Poledra's response was honest, and brought to comfort to Ce'Nedra.  Right before her eyes, the sorceress seemed to shrink and swish into the amulet.

                "Search, Ce'Nedra!" the voice rang clear in her head.  

                The experience was most interesting.  They seemed to be the air itself, swishing through the castle, seeing, knowing, hearing every single thing.  Poledra stopped them suddenly in a dark room.  It seemed to be empty.  Then, quite suddenly, Ce'Nedra found herself back in her bed and Poledra beside her.  Unsure of why they returned, she looked at Poledra for an explanation, only to see her walk over to the men and break their connection.  They didn't seem very happy, but Poledra spoke before they had a chance to voice their objections.

                "Zedar's holding her in Beldaran's old room.  He did something to her."  The words barely left her mouth when Polgara came wandering back.  Relief flooded the faces of all, save Poledra, who's eyes blazed with a fire so intense that only one other being had a gaze so fierce; her daughter.

                Durnik, oblivious to all but that fact that his wife was back, rushed to her side.

                "Where were you, dear?" His voice was thick with concern.

                "Durnik, what on earth are you talking about?  I merely had the sense that Geran and the twins were getting into some trouble, that's all."

                That wasn't it.  Garion could see that she was possessed; it was all betrayed through her eyes.  Her beautiful gray eyes, always alert, always loving save during times when her anger caused then to be steely, were dull, unconcentrating, dead.  He wasn't the only one who noticed; a look with Belgarath and Durnik confirmed that they had also seen the difference.  Poledra walked towards her daughter, her eyes still blazing.  Perhaps it was his imagination, but it seemed that a lock of hair the same place as the white lock in Polgara's hair blazed, just like Polgara.  Ce'Nedra was frowning, trying to find what was so different about her.

                Poledra laid a gentle hand on Polgara, and the life in her eyes was instantly restored.

                "Was it Zedar?  Is he gone?" Belgarath's voice was urgent.

                Poledra's look was baffled, "I don't know.  Whoever it was left as soon as I laid my hand on her head."

                "I feel awful!" Polgara groaned.  "What happened?"

                Perhaps it was unkind, but Garion could not express his relief any other way than through laughing.  Aunt Pol was back, alright.  No doubt about that.  His adventures were over for the day, hopefully, and he could settle back in bed with his wife and continue to admire his newborn.

                A knock on their door interrupted the grins that they all had on their faces, which was quite obviously about to drive Polgara into a rage.  Brand's son, Kail, entered.  Since the death of his father, Kail had done all his duties, and somehow became Garion's schedule manager.

                "You Majesty," he said, bowing, "I apologize for interrupting, and would like to congratulate you on, Princess, um…"

                "Ce'Vesta." Garion supplied.

                "Yes, on Princess Ce'Vesta.  I would also like to remind you that Prince Kheldar's wedding is coming up in 20 days, and it takes 12 days at least to travel to Drasnia, unless your Majesty plans on other traveling methods."

                Garion smacked himself on his head.  "Of course!! Silk's wedding.  How could I have forgotten?  I supposed we should begin packing right away.  Kail, will you be okay here for a month or so?"  
                "Of course, your Majesty.  Send my regards to Prince Kheldar."

                "Of course."  Garion grinned suddenly, "I wonder how on earth Velvet ever talked him into it.  I assume she's having quite a difficult time persuading him to stay on his word this close to the ceremony."

                Without another thought, the company went their separate ways to prepare for their journey.

A/n:  Sorry that was short.  Another chapter is already started, and it should be longer and up soon.  I'm still inviting all comments, ideas, and suggestions!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 By GeminiGirlz #2

Disclaimer:  they're not mine.

                Prince Kheldar of Drasnia, known as Silk by his comrades, and various names by business associates, had quite a reputation.  He was a spy, a thief, a murderer, a gambler, a cheater, a drinker, and, as a result of his cunning slyness, an unbelievably prosperous businessman.  His long, pointy nose twitched at the mention of money, his rat-like face constantly betraying his thoughts.  An experienced liar, he somehow manages to cheat the other outrageously in any business deal.  Never in one place too long, he had branches all over Aloria and manages to show up with many unexpected people in the most unforeseen places.  Then again, perhaps that was the charm that captured the heart of the lovely blond lady Margravine Liselle, niece to Javelin, who was chief of the Drasnian Intelligence.  And, as fate would have it, Silk also fell head over heels for the charming lady, who talked him into marriage.  It may have seemed like an appealing idea at first, but the rat-faced prince was having second thoughts now.  Did he really want to give up a life of adventure, of constant roaming, to – and the very idea made him shudder – settle down and stay in Drasnia?

                Pacing around in his room, the prince was desperately thinking of an escape plan on the wedding day, and how to conceal his plan from his fiancée, who was also equally, if not more, cunning as him.

                "She wants me to lead a safer life!  As if!  I'm a spy.  Spies don't lead safe lives.  If I wanted a safe life I wouldn't have gone to the academy and trained to be a spy.  And settling down; the very thought of it makes me shudder.  Imagine, doing business without traveling.  Even living life without traveling.  No, no," he decided, "That just isn't my lifestyle.  As much as I love her, I have to talk her out of this vision she has for our future.  Staying in one place!" he cursed, "Outrageous.  Completely unacceptable.  If she were part Algarian, perhaps she would at least abandon the idea of settling down." The tiny man shuddered again, "Completely monstrous!"  A knock interrupted his insane ramblings.

                "Your Highness," a servant said, "Margravine Liselle requests and audience with you."

                Silk stopped, and looked into a mirror, adjusting himself so that none of his displeasure showed.  Then he nodded to the servant, indication for him to let Velvet in.

                "Silk!" Velvet exclaimed enthusiastically, "I just had the most brilliant idea for out flower arrangements."

                Silk groaned inwardly, but perked up as he realized that her gestures were not to help her express her thoughts; they were telling him an entirely different story.  They made some small talk over the flower arrangements, their true conversation artfully hidden as their gestures looked as if they were simply helping express their idea to the other to an outsider, or even one familiar with the secret language.  Only skilled eyes could catch their concealed words.  As Velvet attempted to "attack" him, seemingly outraged that he simply would not accept the idea of the alter decorated with violets and Adara's roses, she handed him a small piece of parchment, neatly rolled up.  His motion to block her attach was really an excuse to slip the parchment into his pocket.

                Such was the life of Prince Kheldar; filled with deceit and hidden meanings behind every word spoken.  When Liselle stormed out as Silk adamantly refused to have daisies and daffodils decorating the chairs, he checked the normal places for a spy to hide, then unfolded the parchment.

_Dearest Silk and Velvet,_ he read

_We are going to depart today for Boktor, and we are all looking forward to you wedding.  However, some alarming news has reached me; it appears as if Torak was never really mad – he was possessed by the insane portion of the Sprit of Dark, who has somehow found its way to our time and has possessed Zedar.   If I understand this correctly, we have a Torak-like Zedar loose and he even captured Polgara!  We have her back, just like normal now.  We have found out too much to write; I will explain in detail when I arrive.  Don't bother to reply; nobody will be able to find us, as we plan to depart Riva before this letter will reach you._

_Yours truly,_

_Belgarion_

Try as he might, Silk simply could not hide his glee.  Surely, with the new chaos abroad, his beloved Liselle would not deny him the chance to help his heroic friends deal with this.  Knowing her, she would probably want to come too.  Well, then, that would delay the wedding for quite a bit.

                However, as Silk reread the letter, he found that the situation was much more important than the stalling of his wedding; if two possibilities were again abroad, and the Dark chooses to tear them apart, it could mean that the prophecies would begin all over again; something that would be too awful to think about.  All those meetings over the centuries, having to be done over again!  Silk shuddered.  No, he decided, it would be better for this to be over quickly; even if it means having my wedding when it should be, it's better than taking the chance of another division.

                Prince Hettar of Algaria was helping his crippled father to his horse when a messenger with a letter from Riva came.  Cho-Hag and his adopted son eagerly opened the letter.  It was similar to the one addressed to Silk, asking them to set out as soon as possible and to meet him in Boktor at Silk's wedding.  Alarmed by the shocking news, they alerted Adara and immediately began to prepare for their journey south. (a/n: I don't have a map with me so I'm guessing that Drasnia is South of Algaria.  Knowing my WONDERFUL sense of direction, I'm probably way off.  Sorry about that, but if anyone knows a website with a map, I would LOVE to know it.  No need to tell me whether or not Drasnia really is south of Algaria; my geography is just horrendous, so this is an apology for all the wrong directions I'm going to give in this story).

                Garion couldn't help but smile as he climbed onto his horse.  Royalty was not nearly as luxurious as it sounded, and he much preferred the back of a horse, and Aunt Pol's famous home cooked meals.  Durnik and Polgara rode the horses that led the carriage Ce'Nedra was resting in, still frail from her recent birth.  Poledra ran along them in her natural form.  Garion and Belgarath followed them in strong horses kin to Eriond's Horse.  Being in no hurry, they rode the horses at a brisk walk, which allowed Garion to think quite a bit about the current situation.  He rode up to Belgarath.

                "Grandfather," he said, "Since we're assuming that Zedar is now possessed by the Dark, and we know that he_ was_ in the castle, is it really safe to leave him there?  I mean, nobody in the castle has any means of defense against him.  I don't really welcome the idea of coming home and finding that he is the new King of Riva, or that there has been some mysterious incidents around here."

                Belgarath sighed, a sigh that so clearly showed his ages of wisdom, and his ancient face broke into a gentle smile, "Garion, I can understand your concern. Know, however, that your Aunt and I have been dealing with the Dark and Zedar for centuries, and if I know them, they should be somewhere about half a league behind us."

                This alarmed Garion greatly, "If you know that, why not catch Zedar?  Is it safe to have Torak's disciple acting like him so close to us?  So close to the women?"

                Belgarath stopped his horse and looked Garion in the eye, "If you think I'd ever risk the chance of bringing about any harm to anyone, I'm surprised.  They will not attack, and I'm bringing us to the Vale first.  The combined minds of all of us and the twins have a better chance against it.  Besides, the only vulnerable one in our group, the only one without knowledge of the Will and the Word, is Ce'Nedra, and your Aunt and I have already brought about a shield to protect her."

                They resumed the pace their horses were walking at, and Garion relaxed.  He thought instead of how Silk's wedding would seem so much like a reunion; for Hettar was not the only one he wrote a letter to; letters were also sent to Zakath, Urgit, Barak and Anheg, and of course Silk himself.

Zakath, the King of Mallorea, had just finished a conference with the ambassador from Gar Og Nadrak when Garion's messenger came in.  Eager to hear from his friend, Zakath called for his wife, Cyradis, but began reading the letter first.

                "Heavens, no," he murmured, "The possibility of another division?  I certainly hope my Cyradis won't become a seeress again.  Seeing what a seeress sees is a burden that should not be placed upon a woman as fragile as she."

                As luck (or perhaps fate) would have it, it was at that moment that Cyradis walked in, her eyes blinded by a thin strip of black cloth.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A/n: sorry this took so long.  End of the year projects are killing me.

                Urgit, the half-Drasnian King of the Murgos, was absolutely thrilled to hear from Garion.  Immedietly calling upon his mother and Oskat (I think that's his name, sorry if it's not.  Also, I can't remember his mother's name so until someone tells me, I'll call her Lady Mother.  Again, apologies for my horrible memory.), his began reading the letter with such enthusiasm and eagerness it was almost childish.  The grin, however, quickly disappeared from his face as the importance of the letter struck him.  Quickly giving orders to Huraji, his advisor who had finally earned his trust, instructions for running the palace, he gathered a few things and set out of his brother's wedding.

                The huge ship _Serendipity_ was docking.  Sailors came out to unload the stock.  One man of average height stepped out, his ordinary face hardly noticeable among others.  He wore sailor's clothes, all but the collar which he knew would arouse some questions sooner or later.  He had stumbled around in a feigned drunken state the voyage to Cherek, for a drunk sailor never wore proper attire.  However, now that he was a sober man, not having a collar would certainly cause trouble.

                Another ship docked nearby, driven by the famous Captain Greldik.  Greldik raced to his captain and the two embrace warmly and began chatting.  The man was relieved; that would put Captain Kyndar off his track for a while, until he could slip away unnoticed.  Sailors from Greldik's ship also came off and began unloading the cargo there.

                Greldik looked over at him, and he knew that he was in trouble.  Muttering some curse words, putting his hand on the pouch of poisons he carried, grabbing a pinch as Greldik casually steered Kyndar in his direction.

                "Mate," Greldik called, "Do you not know it is customary to wear a collar?"

                Acting quickly, and perhaps too rash, he threw the powder into Greldik's face.  Without looking back, he ran, faster than he had ever ran.  The fleeting stranger disappeared behind a corner and the sailors all went beside Greldik.

                The Captain had collapsed, unable to breathe.  His face grew purple until a sailor splashed some water in his face.  Greldik gasped for air, looking up into Kyndar's face.  His eyes widened in horror and he began babbling in some incoherent language.  Kyndar's face was troubled as he saw his dear friend turn into a blubbering maniac.

                "Send a physician to my quarters!" he yelled, "And prepare a litter to carry the captain on."  Several men scrambled away.  Minutes later, a rather hastily constructed litter, looking quite unusual but working nonetheless, came and Kyndar gently lifted the still muttering Greldik into it.  But he would not stay.  In frustration, Kyndar painstakingly bounded the captain onto the litter, then had his men carry it to his quarters, where a physician lay waiting patiently.  She examined Greldik carefully, her face troubled.

                "What is it?" Kyndar asked.

                "A rare Nyissan poison," she replied, "I do not know its origins or how to cure it.  Please, send for a flower called Adara's rose.  I'm afraid it's the only solution I know."  
                "A flower?" Kyndar exclaimed, "A _rose_ while my friend is on his deathbed?"

                "Captain," the physician replied, "Adara's rose is the Sovereign Specific, a universal remedy.   It's fumes will surely help your friend."

                "You heard her!" Kyndar barked, "Go get me that flower now!"  the frightened servant quickly scrambled away.

                The sovereign specific was not as all as grand as Kyndar had expected.  He had expected some exquisite rose that looked healing.  The flower turned out to be a small, lilac-colored flower.  The smell of the small rose, however, did seem to wash away his worries and lift his spirits.  A bouquet of it was placed on Greldik's chest, and Kyndar could not help but think of how that looked as if his dear friend were already gone.

                Greldik's frantic breathing subsided, but he did not seem to be normal quite yet.  The physician's face was troubled, and she left and came back with a hooded woman with long, wavy hair that was as dark as midnight that hung on her left side.

                "May I know the nature of your friend's poisoning, Captain?" Her voice was rich and deep.  He felt as if he should know her, but his concern overwhelmed that thought.

                "There was a sailor," he replied, his voice now shaking with rage, "who had somehow smuggled aboard.  He threw some powder into his face."

                "Then what happened?" the lady pressed.

                "He began to choke, and turn purple.  Then a quick-thinking sailor splashed water into his face, and he began to breathe, and then he saw me, and he looked at me as if I were some – some demon, and he started got a seizure and began to blabble incoherently."

                The hooded woman nodded, and Kyndar stared at her curiously.

                "Excuse me, miss," he asked, "but I feel as if I should know you.  What is your name?"

                The woman pushed back her hood to reveal dazzling emerald green eyes and a marble white skin.  Kyndar frowned, trying to place her face.  Then he remembered.

                "Thalista?" She was her brother's first girlfriend.

                Her rich laugh rang in the room. "Why, Kyndar!" she exclaimed, "what a surprise!"

                "Indeed," he agreed, "How in the world did you become a healer?"

                Her smile faded, "My mother fell ill some years ago," she replied, "It was later found that she had been poisoned.  I devoted my life to finding various antidotes for every existing poison.  It became noticeably easier when I was introduced to Adara's Rose."

                "How is it that a flower has such powers?" Kyndar asked curiously.

                "It was created out of love, so it somehow destroys evil chemicals, as well as feelings."

                "I see," Kyndar said, "I had wondered why I felt so happy when the flower was brought in." he frowned, "But who has such great power as to create a flower like this?"

                "The Godslayer, Belgarion."

                Before he had time to respond, Greldik jerked up, his eyes unfocused but wide.

                "Behold, Belgarion, and beware of the apostate.  When the sorceress is captured, search not for the capturer but for her soul.  For if the not yet divided meet and the party is not complete, it shall surely lead to a division that shall favor the other.  Beware also the imposer, for she shall be the same as the real but for one.  And shall she journey with you then she shall cause incompleteness.  Hasten to find her soul."

                Kyndar stared at his friend with a blank incomprehension; Thalista's eyes opened in horror and she sank to the ground in a deadly faint.

a/n: sorry.  My old English and prophecy-ish writing isn't too good.  Yes, that was a prophecy.  This chapter really sucked cuz I'm experiencing writer's block, BIG TIME.  So before I turn this into something like my other fics where I write pages of nonsense, only to come to a dead end, I really need to read some good fics for inspiration and I would also appreciate any plot suggestions (I already have the basic plot organized, I need details.), plz email them to: lilangelgirl527@hotmail.com.  Thanks everyone for all the reviews!! I've never gotten so many!! (for those of u who've seen the other stories on my account, all the fics with lotsa reviews are written by GeminiGirlz #1, not me L)  The next chapter may take a while.  Oh, and for the whole Cyradis thing, the black cloth does NOT signify evil, I just always kinda imagined that the cloth'd be black, and it is not certain if she is a seer again (I'm still trying to decide).  I think I'll kinda make her a half-seer sorta thing.  See what I mean by I'm going to write a lotta nonsense?   I really need 2 read some good fics.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

                "Cyradis!" Zakath leapt up from his throne as he saw his delicate wife enter with her blindfold.  "What's wrong?!  Have you–" he couldn't bring himself to finish the horrifying thought.

                "Nay, Zakath," she assured him, "It is just that the bright sunlight hath irritated my fragile sight."  Indeed, her pale eyes could be seen through the thin cloth (a/n: medieval sunglasses!!)

                "So you're not–" he still couldn't say it.

                "Nay, my days as a seer are over, and forever shall I rest by thine side."

                Zakath's racing heart slowed, although he was still unconvinced; a part of him suspected that his gentle wife's days as a seer were perhaps still not over. However, the bright sun _could_ be quite irritating at this time of the day, and as long as Cyradis wasn't having any more visions, he was satisfied.

                The ambassador from Tolnedra had presented Riva with a rather interesting and seemingly profitable treaty.  Kail was undecided on whether or not to accept it, and the ambassador was growing rather impatient.  He had stalled Berditi (the ambassador) for the past several days with the excuse that his King was busy with his newborn.  However, the treaty was truly too good to pass up, and he decided to see if his King had left yet.  Being practical because of his Sendarian background, Garion never announced when he left so that his whereabouts were never too certain and sneaky ambassadors wouldn't try to take advantage of the kind-hearted Kail.

                Kail knocked softly on the door of the Royal bedroom (a/n: is there a special name for that?).  When there was no answer, he decided to check the nursery, in case his King and Queen were still resting from the newborn.  The nursery was full with all five children; Beldaran, Ce'Vesta, Geran, and Polgara's twins, Asrana and Killane. He was like an uncle to those children.  Kail especially liked Polgara's twins.  Asrana had beautiful hair and glorious eyes like her mother, and Killane had an honest face and light brown hair, like his father (a/n: does Durnik have brown hair?  For some reason I always imagined him with brown hair.).  Both were playful, but their little frowns always amused Kail when they were in a "serious" situation, such as who gets to sit at on the tallest branch of the Tree today.  _Well,_ he thought, _They would never leave their children behind.  I guess I should check Lady Polgara's room._

                Polgara's door was slightly open.  When there was no answer to his knock, he went in after a moment's hesitation.  He looked about in confusion.  There was nothing left in that room; everything was packed and gone.  Then it hit him.  Of course! They were just about to leave.  He raced down to the stables, only to find that the horses were already gone.  His shoulders slumped in defeat and he started up to Berditi's room to ask for an extension on the treaty when he realized something.  There were no fresh horse tracks in the mud, and he should have heard them going to get the children.  He ran back to the nursery, and saw all five children playing an innocent game of tag.  Something was definitely wrong here; after Geran's abduction, Garion never went anywhere without his children.  He always had to know exactly where his children were.  Though it was summer, Kail suddenly felt like an icicle.  A chill went down his spine and he shivered.  His skin felt clammy all over and a dread began to build up in his heart.  So preoccupied was he in his worries that he did not notice a dark figure creeping up behind him.

                Since Greldik was out of town on some voyage, Garion and company had boarded Barak's ship.

                "Are you ready yet?" the huge redhead roared, pacing around impatiently as they led the horses on.

                "Why the impatience?" Belgarath replied.  He was, for whatever reason, in a rather whimsical mood that day.  Barak simply muttered something under his breath and let it lie.  Like most people who knew Belgarath well, he knew how unbelievably irritating the ageless sorcerer could be when he was in one of his funny moods.  They closed the doors and made their way onto the deck of the ship.

                Barak's son, Unrak, bowed in greeting as he saw them.

                "I hope you're not going to get yourself into any trouble, Garion." Barak said gruffly.

                "What's gotten into you, Father?" Unrak asked quietly.  Barak had been acting strange since they had set out.  The Earl did not reply.  Unrak then directed his attention to the guests, greeting each one in turn.

                "Who will be taking care of the little ones?" he inquired.

                It was as if a wall in his brain had suddenly broken down as the impact of Unrak's simple, innocent words suddenly registered in his mind.  All thought of the children had been somehow eliminated from his mind the last days.  He simply acknowledged their existence, but never anything more.

                "Why, Grandfather?" He asked.  From the looks on their faces, Garion knew that he wasn't the only one that just remembered that their children were still in the Palace.

                "I think that this has something to do with this insane dark spirit that your friend told us about, Garion.  Do you think you could somehow get in touch with him?"

                _"Are you there?"_ Garion demanded angrily.  There was no response.  Polgara then stood up.                 
                "Let me try something," Polgara said suddenly, rising from her sitting position.  She took Garion's left hand in hers, and placed it on the white lock in her hair.  She then placed her middle and forefinger gently on Garion's temples.  He felt like he was flying.  Until…

                _"When'd you figure that out?" _the familiar voice asked in his head.

                _"I picked it up somewhere.  Let's have a chat, shall we?" _Polgara's voice was loud and clear in his head, _"Father has something to ask you."_

                "What is it, Belgarath?" This time the voice spoke through Garion's lips.

                "Since Geran's abduction, we never let the children out of our sights.  Can you explain perhaps how we managed to get this far on our journey without even thinking of them?  It's as if they were simply blocked off in our minds, until Unrak's question broke the wall."

                "Do you remember how you once said that my opposite tends to repeat himself?  Well, I'm assuming that he was attempting the abduction thing again.  He must've used Zedar to tamper with your minds, to block them off."

                "Very subtle," Belgarath remarked, "Although why wasn't Unrak affected?"

                Garion scratched his head thoughtfully (a/n:  hey, all the necessity does is talk.  I wanted him to DO something when he was taking over someone.), "Since Unrak is Geran's protector, he is immune to all sorcery that would cause him to harm or forget Geran."

                "Well, then," Polgara said, "We know that at least Garion and Geran will remain safe, although," she looked at Barak sternly, "Barak can be quite unbelievable at times."

                The necessity was gone, but their journey was also stalled.  With no other choice, They set off once again towards the palace.  The men went to bring out the horses.  Ce'Nedra was in hysterics about forgetting her babies, and, strangely enough, it was Poledra, not Polgara, who was comforting her.  Nobody noticed Polgara leaning gently over the railing.  She glanced over at her mother, who had risen to find something to comfort the weeping Ce'Nedra.  Her lips twisted into an evil grin and she began gathering her will.

                Back in the castle, a faint laughter could be heard.  In the silent, empty, echoeing throne room, Zedar sat upon the throne, laughing.  Beside him, weak, feeble, and helpless, was Polgara.  Her eyes showed her misery and her heart was crying for her loved ones.  She was helpless, but not hopeless.  Somewhere, something deep in her aching body and feeble mind told her everything was going to be all right.  But sitting beside the powerful Zedar, Polgara could do nothing but weep.

A/n:  hahaha….wasn't that a surprise!! The following chapters will be revealing and will contain a lot of drama!!!  Plz review, I won't post till I get more reviews!!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
A/n: just a note to everyone that I now know Drasnia is north of Algaria.  
  
Zedar's maniacal laughter ceased, and he lifted Polgara's chin harshly with his forefinger. The voice of necessity spoke through. "At last the prophecy shall be fulfilled," the cruel voice boasted, "And you, Polgara, shall be the bride of my instrument. Come to me, for even your most loved ones cannot tell the difference between you and an imposer. Marry me, and together we shall rule the world, and all men and creatures will bow down before us. I will make you queen of the World, second only to me." Polgara shook her head sadly, "After centuries of trying, have you not yet realized that I do not want to rule the world? All I want is a simple life with Durnik, a simple life that I had, which you took!" she screamed with fury. Zedar's eyes captured hers. No, she thought desperately, I can't give in! Go to him. NO! Love him. NO! "You are evil," she said, "You are an apostate, and you are a maniac. But, even with the Necessity on your side, you are not Torak, and you will never have the power of a God." Zedar's overwhelming power shattered and he shook with rage. Her words wound him deep, as she knew they would. He wanted to be a God; wanted it so bad that he believed it himself. A whip came out of nowhere and struck Polgara hard on the back. She collapsed onto a heap and Zedar continued to deliver harsh blows. But Polgara did not feel them. "Pretend to be hurting, and listen to me very carefully," A voice said in her head. "Are-Are you." "Garion's friend" the voice replied. "I have a shield over you. He doesn't know that you can't feel the whip. Your will is not strong enough to overpower his, so don't try to use it unless you want to weaken yourself even more. I want you to fall into a subconscious state and let me take over." A tear trickled down her cheek. "Are they okay?" she had to know. "They will be." The voice assured her. "Now, sleep." Shapeless wonders flowed before her eyes. She seemed to be drifting on a cloud, only vaguely aware of herself talking. While the necessity righted some wrongs, Polgara flew. Ce'Nedra was still sobbing frantically and Poledra was at her side, trying to comfort her. Suddenly she looked up and saw Polgara looking at them. When their eyes met, Poledra was shocked at the look of fear in her daughter's eyes. "Come here," she called out to Belgarath. "Don't bother, Poledra." Polgara's voice rang in her head. She looked over in alarm. "That's right." She said, her voice filled with sick amusement. "I'm not your daughter." "What's going on here?" Belgarath asked from behind. He had hurried at Poledra's call, with Garion and Durnik at his heels. 'Polgara' spun around to face him, her steely eyes flashing. Belgarath glanced between Poledra and 'Polgara' warily. "What is going on here?" he demanded again. Poledra's all-seeing eyes swept over to 'Polgara'. "I think we'd all like to know." She replied. Suddenly, 'Polgara's hand flew out and a knife was hurtling towards Belgarath. Garion stopped it just in time, looking at her in alarm. What happened next to faux Polgara was not pleasant. The combined wills of the men held her in place and subdued her own will while Poledra questioned her intensly, showing a fierceness that none of them had ever suspected from her. "Who are you?" Her first question to the imposter was. "My name is Karachak. I am a Grolim under the eternal service of Zedar." "Grolim?" Garion said in surprise. "I thought Eriond took care of them." Grolims were so prejudiced against that Eriond had renamed all the Grolims who followed him Jerunds. Since the Grolims blindly followed their God, after a period of getting used to this new, kind God, all Grolims had been declared Jerunds. Except, obviously, this one. "I took extreme care to hide from the despicable new Angarak God. I knew in my heart that the true God of Angarak would make his return and seek revenge on those who were unloyal to him. The day is coming when the Dark prophecy shall gain dominion over those of Light. I was abandoned by all my comrades when I told them my belief. I hid in the jungle until, one day, I sensed the presence of the Dark. I searched the world for him and eventually my search led me to Zedar. He told me of the plans he had and instructed me as to how I can help him bring justice to the world." "Justice?!" Belgarath looked uncertain as to whether he should be amused or angry. "Yes, Accursed Disciple of Aldur, justice. Zedar and I are working to bring justice to the world, to right the wrongs that have befallen this world as a result of Eriond. He believes in peace; the only thing that teaches us discipline and keeps us reasonable is violence and war. We must obey our God without a second thought; Eriond is open to suggestions! Ha! As if a God should be taking suggestions as to how to govern his people. He is not fit to be a God any more than Belgarion is to be King." Garion strode forward in rage but was blocked off by Poledra. "Let us hear his whole story first." She said gently, "And then take action." Garion reluctantly nodded and calmed his anger. "Where is Polgara?" "I believe she should be at the Palace right now, under Zedar's strict watch. She will submit to the Dark, and nothing you can do will stop her from doing that. She will take her place as mistress beside the instrument of Dark, as was foreordained at the moment of division. She will love Zedar and serve him until the end of time." Durnik's face was filled with undisguised fury, but he contained his anger and allowed Karachak to continue. "She will take up her place as Mistress of Darkness, not even the Gods will be able to prevent that." He sneered, "You can kill me, but it won't make a difference. Polgara is beyond rescue, and you all will finally get what you deserve." Garion did not see that Belgarath and Beldin were focusing their wills elsewhere. A single word was screamed into the sky, a shout of summoning, a shout for help. "Master!" Karachak's sneer was gone and his eyes looked a bit wild. He obviously had not anticipated this. Aldur appeared amongst them. Though this was not the first time Garion had seen him, he still felt overwhelmed in the presence of a God. "Master," Belgarath said, bowing in respect and love, "Have you heard the Grolim's story?" "I have," Aldur replied in his gentle voice, "And the brotherhood of Gods shalt join with our Father to right this wrong. Fear not, and have the one who is most fit to deal with him." He smiled at Durnik, who, like Belgarath, bowed and turned to face Karachak, whose eyes were literally bulging. "Of course," Beldin said to Belgarath's look of confusion. "He came back to life for Pol - he should be the one to avenge her." Garion felt his friend's will gathering - and suddenly Polgara was standing in place. Her hair was a mess and her eyes red. "He switched them," Beldin said in awe (a/n: does anyone have a better word for this? I wanted something like translocation but I couldn't think of a word.). With a cry Polgara ran and embraced her husband, and Aldur smiled his gentle smile. "How is that possible? To switch people takes more power than all of us in the Vale combined. Unless - " Beldin broke off. He understood that Aldur had helped. "Welcome to the brotherhood, Beldurnik."  
  
A/n: uh.heh heh..i just remembered that Beldin and Vella disappeared and got married..so, um, just pretend that they settled down in Beldin's tower after a few years of flying and that Beldin went to Riva after a fight he had with Vella. The particular cause of the argument will be added into the plot. 


End file.
